


Weather the storm

by Tashilover



Category: Endeavour
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Sex Pollen, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-05-17 03:38:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5852560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How long does the drug last?"</p><p>"Without stimulation, twelve to twenty-seven hours."</p><p>"And with stimulation?"</p><p>"One to four."</p><p> </p><p>My take on the fandom sex pollen trope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"How long does it usually last?"

"From what I've observed," DeBryn said. "Without stimulation, anywhere from twelve to twenty-seven hours."

" _An entire day?_ " Thursday said agahst. "And with stimulation?"

"One to four."

Thursday turned to the small window on the door. He peered inside, staring grimly at his bagman who was shivering uncontrollably upon the ground. The room was mostly empty, except for a few pillows and blankets DeBryn set up on the floor. Morse wasn't even using them. Perhaps the boy needed the coolness of the ground on his skin, maybe he didn't know they were there, who knows. Morse kept clawing at his skin, grabbing at his hair, and his eyes darted around the room without focus. He was sprayed two hours ago and already he looked half-wild out of his mind.

"He has a girlfriend, doesn't he?" DeBryn asked.

"She's in France, visiting her sister."

"Then perhaps a lady of the night? I know a few willing gals on seventh who'll-"

"No," Thursday said, cutting him off. "I don't think... I don't think Morse would like that. Once he comes back to his senses."

"Hmmm... then I guess he'll just have to weather out the storm. I'll prepare an IV."

The drug was called Explosion Pop, or EP for short. It was a stupid name, and yet somehow this bloody thing has become the bane of Thursday's existence. The drug started out as a natural aphrodisiac, passed around at parties to make them more enjoyable. According to rumours, an idiot with a degree in chemistry weaponized it, turned it into a powder rather than a chewable tablet. Now instead allowing the drug to slowly be ingested over a period of an hour, when exposed to skin and eyes, it took on a more potent effect.

It didn't take much to activate the EP. When thrown and hit with enough force, it exploded, coating everything in its path with the powder.

"Can't he stimulate himself?" Thursday asked. Surely it should be better for Morse to handle himself rather than getting a stranger to do it.

"Hmmm, I wish it could be that easy," DeBryn said as he pulled out a needle from a nearby drawer. "It has to be outside stimuli. Otherwise it's a lot like trying to tickle yourself. It's impossible. The body knows what's coming and anticipates for it."

From inside the closed room, Morse gave off another moan. It didn't sound pleasurable, it sounded like he was sick.

People thought EP was an instantenous thing, that as soon as you were sprayed, the effects were immediate. Taking EP through skin was more potent, but it still took time for it to soak in. Morse was chasing a suspect down when he was sprayed. The moment the suspect thought he was cornered, he turned around, taking an EP ball out of his pocket and threw it right at Morse.

According to Morse, the ball got him by the shoulder, it exploded, spraying its tan-coloured pollen everywhere. The suspect tried to take Morse's temporary confusion to run past him, when Morse suddenly tackled him. In the end, the suspect was arrested, and they were both dusted in EP.

Unlike Morse, who was allowed privacy and room to move, the suspect was going have to wait out his EP effects in handcuffs.

Morse gave off another moan. "He sounds miserable," Thursday said.

"He is miserable," DeBryn said. He pulled out an IV bag, checking the contents. Once satisfied, he started fitting it for the needle. "From the many descriptions I've heard, EP denial is equivelant to... say, the sensation of having your foot falling asleep. Except it's affecting the entire body and a hundred times worse. Oh, quit your guilt and go home, Thursday. I'll watch Morse. I'll make sure he's hydrated and comfortable."

Thursday raised an eyebrow. "He won't attack you?"

"I doubt he even knows where he is."

Thursday almost left. He knew DeBryn will take good care of Morse, ensuring the boy will not harm himself in the process. Thursday took a step away from the door, his hands moving to place on his hat when a thought struck him. "What sort of lasting effects will this have on him?"

"Hmm?"

"Morse already looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin," Thursday clarified. "If he's to endure this for over twenty-four hours, what kind of... trauma will he have to face?"

"Well... studies on long-term effects of EP are rare, but from what I've read..." DeBryn shrugged. "Morse may experience permanent erectile dysfunction. Low sperm count. Insomnia. Uh... in some rare cases, unusual growth of the testicles, but that study was done on a young man who constantly abused EP over a period of two years-"

"Enough," Thursday said, cutting him off. "I am not going to have that happen to Morse."

DeBryn's eyebrows rose. "Ah, so you're going to take my advice about asking one of the lovely ladies-"

"No. Like I said, Morse wouldn't want a stranger."

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Naughty bits and dubious consent.

"How do I know this isn't some ploy to take advantage of Morse's condition?"

"You know damn well it's not."

"I know," Debryn said, huffing. "But I still have to ask. Thursday, you know if you do this, your relationship with him will change forever."

Thursday was busy rummaging through DeBryn's medical drawers, looking for condoms. "Third drawer," DeBryn muttered, and Thursday pulled out a small roll of five. He didn't think he'll need this many but if Morse was going to be under the EP's influence for four more hours, he may have to ask for more. "I know," Thursday said.

"Then WHY are you doing this."

DeBryn didn't phrase it as a question, though it was. Thursday shrugged off his coat, tossing it upon the same table with the IV. He did the same with his suit jacket, followed by his tie. "Morse... doesn't handle pain very well. I've seen it. If I can give him some relief, end this before the EP does permanent damage to him, so be it."

With condoms in hand, he grasped the door handle to Morse's room. DeBryn's hand suddenly slammed against the door, keeping it close. "Are you insane?" He hissed.

Thursday growled at him, "I know the consequences of my actions-"

"No, you idiot," DeBryn said. He held up a bottle of lube. "Unless you think Morse likes it _dry_."

"Oh," said Thursday. His cheeks pinked. "Right. Thank you."

When the door closed behind Thursday ten seconds later, he suddenly felt a twinge of doubt. As noble as it sounded, relieving Morse's suffering, DeBryn was entirely right: doing this will change their relationship forever. Thursday coveted Morse's trust, his friendship. Despite all of his years of experience, finding such exceptional men was rare.

Morse was still lying in a fetal-position, holding himself like he was giving himself a hug. His eyes were blown open, unfocused, and his cheeks were tear streaked. Every time he breathed, he gave off a small whimper of discomfort. DeBryn left him a tray with a jug of water and a glass. Thursday was glad to see some of the water has been drunk, meaning Morse was coherent enough to quell off dehydration.

"Morse," Thursday said, kneeling down next to him. He set down the condoms and lube, and reached out to touch Morse's cheek. He hesitated, thinking it was too intimate, then mentally kicking himself. If Morse was willing, Thursday was going to do a lot more than _touch his fucking cheek_. "Morse," he said again. "Look at me, look at me. C'mon, lad."

It took a few long seconds, but Morse slowly turned his head towards Thursday, his big blue eyes blinking rapidly up at him. He looked _wrecked_ , like he spent the last ten minutes running at full sprint. It took even longer for his gaze to focus on Thursday. "S-sir," he said.

"Morse," Thursday said quickly. "I'm here to relieve you of the EP symptoms, but only if you want me to. I know you're in a lot of discomfort right now and it's hard to focus, but I need you to try. Do you want me here? Yes or no?"

Thursday knew it wasn't fair to ask such a question on someone who's been suffering the effects for nearly three hours now, but if anybody can fight keep a clear mind, it was Morse.

Despite his faith in the boy, the silence reigned so long, Thursday thought the question was forgotten immediately. Just as he was ready to stand up and leave, Morse grasped his elbow and said, "Please... please, I... make it stop."

That was best answer Thursday was going to get. With that, he bent down and gently kissed Morse on the mouth.

At first Morse didn't respond. His eyes still held the same unfocused stare, but Thursday was patient. He kept at it, slowly kissing Morse, rubbing his back and sides gently. After a few minutes, Morse slowly uncurled, opening himself up, relaxing for the first time since he's been sprayed. He started kissing back clumsily.

Morse wasn't hard. Thursday would be more surprised if he were; nothing about the last three hours Morse endured was arousing.

Thursday kept kissing him, touching him, glad to feel the tension slowly seep out of Morse's muscles. For a moment Thursday entertained the idea this was all he had to do. If simple kissing and touching could relieve such strife, then that was great. No need to go any further.

He pulled back, grunting. The position he was in was hurting his shoulders terribly. The moment he did that, Morse's arms came up, grabbing him, pulling him down. Thursday made an embarrassing surprised noise, and threw out an arm, afraid of crushing Morse beneath his large body. Morse didn't seem to mind or care, positioning himself so Thursday practically laid on top of him. Morse continued kissing him, each kiss becoming more desperate, his hips jaunting upwards, seeking friction.

Up until now, Thursday treated this as a necessary, emotionless act. To him, it was no different than brushing his teeth or shaving. As Thursday licked into Morse's mouth, he found he could not detach himself emotionally from this. Kissing Morse was nice, but Thursday has always been more of an audio lover. If he could hear his partners gasping in pleasure, it only fed into his own. The whimpering, begging noises Morse was making went straight to Thursday's cock. Morse was already hard, and he kept moving his hips up whilst trying to drag Thursday's down.

Their clothes were still on, making Morse's efforts to dig his erection against Thursday a tad uncomfortable. "Hold on..." Thursday muttered, drawing back. "Hold on..."

Morse followed him, continuing to kiss him as Thursday grabbed at his own belt. He opened the front of his trousers, exposing himself, then quickly opened Morse's fly, shoving Morse's trousers and pants down past his hips. "C'mon then," he breathed, leaning back down and bringing Morse with him. "Like this..."

He grabbed Morse's arse and encouraged him to rut against Thursday. Taking the cue, Morse pushed himself up on his hands and began to move. It perhaps was not the ideal way to bring about Morse's first orgasm, but Thursday was already on his back. It was too late to move now.

Morse's cock was pressed against the soft part of Thursday's lower belly, near the curviture of his hip. Thursday ignored his own erection, focusing on Morse, helping him move, his hands still on Morse's arse. Thursday thought this first orgasm would be swift and easily brought on considering how longthe EP had been torturing Morse's body. Sweat beaded at the top of Morse's hairline, a few tears leaked out of his eyes, and his cheeks burned hotly as he became more desperate to get himself off. His cock was leaking, leaving a sticky trail across Thursday's skin, but it didn't look like Morse was near coming.

Feeling sorry for the boy, Thursday reached for the lube. He should've done this in the first place.

He coated his hand with lube, pushed himself up on one elbow, and grasped Morse's cock. Morse gave off a small gasp, surprised by the suddenly warmth. His small flinch allowed Thursday to wrap his hand around Morse's cock fully, and began jerking him off quickly.

Within moments Morse cried out, sounding almost as if in pain. His cock spurted hotly, shooting four long white strips across Thursday's stomach. Exhausted, Morse collapsed ontop of Thursday.

His was breathing so hard, he was practically heaving. Thursday wrapped his arms around Morse, hugging him (politely ignoring he was also smearing lube across Morse's shoulder). Thursday's own erection was still demanding attention and he continued ignoring it. "Are you alright?"

Morse's cock was not softening. Even as his breathing leveled out, his prick was still poking Thursday in the side. "Hot..." he muttered.

"Ah. Well..." Their clothes were still on. DeBryn promised to stay in case something went wrong, but Thursday hoped he wasn't looking in at this very moment. This was embarrassing enough as is. "Take off your shirt."

It took extra prompting from Thursday to get him to undo his own buttons. Morse kept trying to forgo the clothes, wanting to lean forward to be kissed. "Focus," Thursday kept saying, finally getting Morse to shed his shirt. "Get your trousers off as well, we'll-"

"Mmmmm..." Morse moved forward, grabbing at Thursday and kissed him, refusing to be pushed away.

Thursday let himself be kissed, still trying to undress Morse. Morse was trying to undress him too, but doing a worse job of it, tugging at Thursday's shirt, popping the buttons off instead of undoing them. Thursday had a worrying thought: he didn't bring an extra set of clothing with him. Neither did Morse. Wonderful.

Morse was getting impatient. His hands were everywhere, grabbing and pulling, almost to the point of pain. He was going to tire himself out, hurt himself in the process. "Morse," Thursday said, trying to calm him. "Morse, you- OW! Morse!"

Thursday shoved him back, quickly climbing on top of him, holding him down. "Calm. Calm."

With a grunt Morse stop fighting him. He was tense as a bow string, struggling to keep still.

Thursday hurried and shed his clothes. He tossed them aside- they were ruined anyways- and helped Morse get undressed.

Once they were both nude, Thursday crawled back on top of him. "Does this feel better?"

Morse didn't answer. He was still as stiff as before. "Morse?"

"I'm sorry," he suddenly said. He was shaking, almost on the verge of crying. "I'm sorry you have to do this. I'm so sorry-"

Thursday swooped down and kissed him, cutting off his words. "Stop," Thursday said in between kisses. "Don't think any further on this. You're not to blame."

Morse kissed him back, his arms coming up to wrap around Thursday's shoulders. "I want you so badly, it hurts. Don't force yourself into this, I don't want you to hate me-"

"Shus," Thursday whispered into his mouth. He grasped Morse's hips, letting pleasure take away his doubt. "Shush."


	3. Chapter 3

Thursday had no idea how they got here. In the beginning he was the one in control, he was the one who dictated how fast they proceeded. Now here he was, flat on his back, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes as Morse was on top of him, riding him like there was no tomorrow.

Because of the EP, Morse was instiatible. Thursday did his best to bring him off fast, bring off often, but as soon as one orgasm ended, Morse was clamoring for more within moments later.

"O-oh god," Thursday stammered. Morse was taking his sweet time, pleasuring himself slowly, moving his hips just enough to drive Thursday out of his mind.

It didn't help Thursday had only one orgasm during this while ordeal. When his erection became a constant, annoying presence, he quickly brought himself off. He hoped after that was done, he could focus his whole attention back to Morse. But as much as Thursday tried to give pleasure, Morse was just as eager to give it back.

He enjoyed kissing so much, Thursday wondered if this was a EP side affect. But no, on a certain level, Morse was aware enough to be conscious of Thursday's responses. For example, Thursday enjoyed a little roughness, and did not mind if his partners bit him. Morse picked up on this and bit his lips, his neck, his shoulders, his ears, his fingers. The constant sharp sting of teeth on Thursday's skin had him crying out, and he was hard again in no time at all.

Thursday had hoped he could avoid fucking Morse. He did his best to bring Morse off with his hand, then his fingers, then his mouth. After what felt like Morse's eighth orgasm, Thursday rolled on a condom and had begun preparing himself to fuck Morse - if that what it took, then so be it - when Morse shoved him upon his back and climbed on top of him.

"Oh my god..."

In that moment as Morse sunk down on him, the last coherent thought Thursday had was, 'He's done this before. He's practiced.'

And then he was gone, lost in his own pleasure, taking everything Morse was giving him.

He was crying. Everything was so overwhelming, it felt too good. His whole body wanted more of it, begged him to flip Morse onto his back and just tear him apart. That little dark thought took Thursday out of his pleasure just for a second, and then was right back into it when he consider Morse would probably enjoyed that.

Either way, he didn't do it. (Thursday didn't want to think of Win, who was at home, waiting for him. He'd already called her to tell her it was going to be a late night, but she always stayed up late for him. With two grown kids in the house, it was hard to find time for intimacy. On their last anniversary Thursday sprung for a hotel room. That was a luxury he couldn't afford to do often.

God, he missed her.)

Thursday cried out and arched his back, burying himself deep in Morse, his orgasm crashing down upon him like a great ocean wave.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Up on the ceiling, Thursday managed to see a rabbit, a car, and a dog among the textures. When it was late at night and Thursday couldn't sleep, he'd stare up at the ceiling and seek out patterns. This often calmed him long enough to sleep. Though he was exhausted, Thursday was too wound up to sleep. He wanted a bath first. He wanted dinner. First and foremost, he wanted to make sure Morse was alright.

In his arms, Thursday held Morse close to his chest. The way he laid on Thursday, his face smashed against his chest, didn't look comfortable. But the few times Thursday tried to ease him away, make him more comfortable on the floor, he'd make a distressing noise and cling on tighter.

So Thursday waited, gently rubbing Morse's back as he stared up at the ceiling and imagined animals. He had no idea how long he laid there. There wasn't a clock in the room and his pocketwatch was in his coat, too far away to reach.

Soon, Morse stirred in his arms. He blinked wearily and groaned. "What time is it...?"

"I don't know. Late, I assume. How do you feel?"

"Sore," Morse mumbled. "Very sore. Exhausted."

"I'd imagine you would be. You've been under the influence of EP for at least five hours."

"It's only been a fives hours? God, it felt longer."

"You're off tomorrow. Be sure to sleep as much as you can."

"What about you?"

"Actually, I have to be back soon. I have reports I need to-"

Thursday tried to sit up. Immediately his back protested and with a groan, he laid back down. "I'm too old for this..."

"Are you alright?"

"Mmm'fine. I didn't expect you to be so rough."

Morse guiltily looked over the bruises on Thursday's skin, the bite marks, the hickeys. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. Oh, don't give me that look. It's fine."

"I'm sorry I dragged you into-"

"No, we're not having this conversation. It's over."

Morse miserably sunk down. He was still laying his head on Thursday's chest, as if unable to move away. Maybe the EP was still in effect? "Morse," Thursday started. "I made the decision to be here. I could've easily walked away, left you here to suffer through the effects for the next twenty hours, but I didn't. I don't regret my decision."

Morse opened his mouth to say something, then choked. "Wait- _twenty hours_? I could've suffered through that for _twenty hours_?"

He sat up, finally moving away from Thursday.

"Or so DeBryn says," Thursday said, sitting up as well. His back creaked and it felt like a fist-sized rock shifted inside of him. "I didn't want you to suffer so long."

"It was like a nightmare. It felt like there was bugs underneath my skin, like fingernails were digging into every inch of muscle. I was considering cracking my head against the ground to knock myself unconscious. It nearly drove me mad."

Thursday quickly thought of the thief still in the hospital, still suffering from EP. Then he pushed those thoughts away because that damn fool brought this upon himself.

With a grunt, Thursday got to his feet. "I'm going to go see if DeBryn is still here. I'll ask him to get us some clothes."

"Sir, wait," Morse said, getting up as well.

Here they were, two grown men, stark as the day they were born, and there no embarrassment or shame between them. After what they've done, there was no point, really, but Thursday couldn't help but wonder how such openness was going to affect their relationship in the future?

"I don't know what comes next," Morse said. "But if you want to keep this as a secret, I can do that. If you rather I... walk away, then-"

"Do you want to walk away?"

Morse frowned, then shook his head.

"Neither do I. We can take this slow, see what happens next."

Before he could turn back towards the door, Morse walked up to him, leaned up and very gently kissed him on the lips. "Thank you," he said against Thursday's mouth. "For staying. I don't think I could've handle this without you."

Thursday kissed him back, drawing him closer. So much was going to happen in the next few hours and Thursday might as well enjoy these last moments.

When they finally pulled apart, there was insistent knocking on the door. "Hello?" It was DeBryn. "Are you two about finished?"

"Yes, doctor, we have. Now, did you bring us some clothes?"


End file.
